Texas Chainsaw Massacre
by LeFreak3119
Summary: Arthur and his team stumble upon the remains of the Jones house to find the famous murderer still alive. How will they defend themselves from the chainsaw wielding maniac hell bent on revenge? Things look grim as blood, entrails and flesh collide with metal teeth. Rated M for graphic violent content ((PARTNER NEEDED))
1. Chapter 1

Dried leaves which settled on the ground crunched under the Englishman's feet as he stepped out of his car and scanned the farm house. Even though he lived in another country, he heard legends and tales growing up about this place in Texas. He didn't fear the so called Leatherface man, he heard they recovered his body weeks ago. Officers swarmed in one night and used their numbers to bring down the incestuous and murderous family. Arthur and the team were there to gather evidence and destroy the home. Like burning a book forbidden to be read. Once at the front door, he stared at the only photo of Leatherface, a man in an orange coat wearing a hockey mask and holding the infamous chainsaw in his hands.

A soft breeze ruffled the leaves around his feet, causing the house to seemingly groan with the coming autumn. There wasn't a soul in sight other than Arthur and his team. Each word spoken back and forth between them seemed far too loud. As though this place banished all noise.

A curtain rustled in the upstairs window, and had anyone noticed it, they would have seen a pair of bright blue eyes peaking out from behind the pale white of a hockey mask.

Arthur and the other team members ignored the usual items of a home such as the furniture and food laying about. "There's an awful stench, clearly, these people didn't take care of themselves." He wasn't part of the operation to finally exterminate the Jones family but, whispers from the coroners weren't kept behind doors about the vile and hideous diseases the family contracted. Most likely from the lack of a proper gene pool. Opened drawers held pictures, dead flowers, broken clocks and other useless items to the English detective. A very young female accompanied him, Lily, in searching for any worth to the police case. A nauseous feeling brewed in his stomach as they entered in the kitchen where they found Vash, Lily's brother. The sounds of metal clanking drew the Swiss man to a pot cooking onto a stove and bubbles escaping under the lid. He covered his nose with his sleeve and turned off the nob then, with a dirty rag, he removed the lid and looked inside only to scurry back when he found a human face, blistered red and eyes budging out of the skull, inside.

The rest of the team came running at the sound of the pot lid clattering to the ground, their foot steps covering up the soft creaking of the boards above them on the second floor.

Alfred was crouched by the top of the staircase, his fathers mask covering his eyes and short blond hair knotted and dirty with dried blood and other thing. His blue eyes blazed with a glittering, amused sort of fire as he listened to the shouts of panic coming from the first floor.

They would pay.

They would all pay for what they did to Pap and Gramps and the rest of the family.

Alfred smirked behind his hockey mask shouldering the glinting, metal chainsaw that'd been left behind when he came out of his hiding spot to find them all dead.

They would all pay.

"Cannabis, aren't they?" The Englishman coughed and put as much distance between him and the kitchen, the putrid smell died down soon after from his nostrils. Travis country lost their only means of money when the slaughter house was shut down for health violations. He guessed cannibalism was the only means of food for the Jones family but, that didn't justify their actions. The station worried the family would expand and start traveling for their food and so, they had to be put to an end. "Honda, Braginski, check this side of the upstairs home." The detective gestured to the steps covered in torn carpet and pond sized stains. A rat gnawed from under the rusty colored steps and chewed on something fleshy in the corner. "Zwingli, both of you follow me. Beillschmidt, stay down here."

Walking slowly up the stairs after checking the rest of the rooms leading to the second case, Arthur shined his flash light to light up the stair case. He wiped away the sweat from the heat and his forehead with his sleeve. If only he wasn't wearing he bloody bullet proof vest, he could breath a little easier. It was protocol and could save his life today. He didn't think much danger could still linger around but the home could be booby trapped for all he knew. He opened the first door after giving it a hard jerk with old hinges crying and found it to be a child's play room. Dust laid like a blanket over chipped old toys, fallen picture frames with cracked glass holding drawing with blood and piles of Mother Goose books. Odd. The Englishman didn't remember seeing any small bodies recovered.

Alfred had moved from his spot at the top of the stairs, smirking madly as he heard the thick, British accent order 'Beilschmidt's' to stay down stairs by himself... Pathetic.

The American shifted out of sight just as they came up to the second floor, disappearing down the back stairwell and crawling down to the kitchen without hardly a sound.

Ludwig was investigating in the living room, looking around for any sign or clues of evidence that might be helpful in identifying some of the victims.

Alfred stopped in the kitchen, tilting his head enough to get a good look at where he was before setting his chainsaw down on the floor, silently opening the door to the hall closet and pulling out the bloody baseball bat that had belonged to one of his uncles, nails sticking out of it at odd ends and chunks of rotted flesh still clinging to parts.

Ludwig was dead before he had a chance, his body falling to the floor with an audible thunk and the back of his scull crush under the weight of Alfred's swing.

Arthur turned to Vash with a concerned looked, thinking he heard something. "Lily, do you mind checking on Ludwig downstairs?"

"Alright, sir." She nodded before giving a kiss on her brother's cheek. A habit she never grew out of when she parted ways with him. In return, lips pecked his sister's forehead.

"Be careful." Also, a habit of Vash's which he never grew out of too. He watched her leave before stepping over soggy puzzles and tiny clothing in the play room to look outside of the window. Barren. The outside contained nothing but dry, cracked dirt paths with tall, thin wood formed by dead trees.

The lead detective opened more drawers and found another photo of Leatherface, this time, something was in the burly man's arms. Arthur clean the photo of dust and walked to the sunlight from a window. He pulled down the curtains and held the picture in the light. "What is that?" Eyes narrowed into the mass of sheets and made out a smaller face. A child? Did Leatherface have a child?

Alfred hooked his arms beneath the corpse's, leaving the bloody baseball bat on the floor in a pile of blood hair and brain matter. He payed no mind to the fresh blood that spilled onto him as he dragged Ludwigs body to the kitchen, stuffing him into the broom closet... He'd move him to the freezer later. Right now there was work to be done.

Like the girl coming down the stairs now.

Alfred grabbed a butcher knife off the counter top next to the stove. Moving towards the staircase he could hear her coming down.

Lily made the long walk down the hallway and covered her nose again as she reached closer and closer to the kitchen. She choked and before she stepped in a traveling flow of blood, she moved to the front door to breath. The stench somehow grew more putrid then before. "Ludwig?" She called with her soft voice lightly, hoping he would answer back.

A hand covered her mouth, pulling her roughly against a broad chest. The smell was terrible now. Reeking of corps' and unwashed human filth and the metallic scent of blood all mixed into the putrid, sickening likeness of a stray dog that'd been hit by a car.

A knife was set against her jugular, chapped lips pressing against here ear to whisper. "Ludwig can't play right now."

The slender woman tried to gasped but a scarred palm covered her entire mouth. She didn't know the voice and stood still with the knife on her neck but, her hand laid on top of her gun. Lily's gagging reflex came strong as she heaved and tried to hold down her stomach contents. Her eyes burn and tears formed.

The knife shifted down from her throat, the mans rough hand resting on top of hers on the handle of her gun. "Don't make a noise~" He cooed at her, though considering her mouth was still covered it was a useless order, he wrenched the gun from her belt, slipping it swiftly into one of the deep pockets of his leather coat and returning the knife to her throat, pressing it hard enough to draw a thin trail of blood, but not hard enough to kill. "Ya'll a pretty girl miss. I ain't seen a young lady ever before." His accent was thick, minimal education, but his voice was clearly young... Like that of a teenager.

Closing his eyes with the photo joining the other in his pocket, Arthur listened for anything. The sounds of evidence collected or Lily and Ludwig conversing. Something didn't feel right. Like a ghost lingered in the home and cast a feeling of worry. Was there a newborn in need of help? The station had taken 'innovatory' of the Jones family and nothing of the town records said anything about a baby being born recently. It was small chance but, it couldn't go ignored. Maybe in one of the rooms. "This room is done, we're going to move on."

"This room is empty as well." Ivan's voice came from across the hall, he and Kiku stepping out of the bed room to move on to the next one. "Is there anything special we should be looking for?"

Alfred dragged the knife across her throat in one, smooth motion... It wouldn't kill her, he knew enough about killing to know how to do it properly. This would just make sure she could scream... Cut her voice box.

His hand dropped from her mouth, dragging the girl by her hair to the kitchen- where the door to the basement was. "Come'on miss... Need ya outa the way 'till I can use ya." He'd seen the team coming into his house... She looked a lot like one of the men. And he'd use that later to have a little fun... He wanted to watch the lot of them suffer.

Arthur shoved his fists against a metal door to open it with the hinges screeching for a halt. Another bedroom, it appeared as he sighed. "We're looking for weapons, body parts, anything to collect from the home. Much like the stew we found, just like my nana made." Somehow, a joke emerged from the grime of the situation. "Also, I believe there's a child to be saved." The likelihood of an infant surviving weeks without proper adult supervision dulled next to nothing in the Jones Family. Completely alone, Arthur would greatly believe in the lord above for the miracle.

Lily steeled her veins and refused to show fear to the man, holding down a cry from the sting of the blade into her flesh. The reflex tugged harder the closer they entered to the kitchen. Her eyes fell onto the abused bat, soaked with blood, then darted at streaks of Ludwig's blood leading out from the kitchen.

Alfred smirked slightly when he saw her eyes follow the trail of blood giggling a little as he reached the basement door, throwing it open and dragging her down the wooden skeleton staircase to the damp, dirt floor basement below.

There were a few bones scattered around, some still with half rooted flesh clinging to the joints. But most of them where bare, gnaw marks left from rats and people alike. The workshop was in the corner, blood caked thickly onto the surface, but he didn't turn that way. Not right now.

The padlock of the freezer, spun beneath his free hand, the door coming open with an audible groan of rusted metal and the scraping of it moving across the dirt floor. A cold rush of air reached his face through the holes of his hockey mask.

He shoved her in, hard, slamming the door roughly and turning the padlock to keep her in.

Leavened in with the bodies a while... He'd get he'd when he needed her.

Ivan yawned, out of Arthur's sight for the Englishman would scold him, while rolling a shoulder, popping his bones. He didn't hate his job but, that didn't mean action came around every corner like he expected. Covering his purple eyes from the sun flooding through broken and brown stained window panes, Ivan looked at an old building a far from the Jones' home. "That is their slaughter house?" No wonder the family became accustom to tearing flesh from humans, they were already used to it for live stock.

"Indeed." Sneezing from the dust, the detective knocked on the walls to find a hallow space to hide the weapons for evidence. "If memory serves, they were found adding roaches and mice to the meat mixture. Horrid sanitation lead to many ill and sick residents. Police traced the diseases to the meat, therefore, the Jones family." The room where they killed the poor victims irked the detective since not much progress was made. "We would search the slaughter house but, it's been gutted and nothing was found."

Alfred moved back up the staircase towards the kitchen. He considered moving that Beilschmidts fellow to the freezer now... But decided against it. He'd handle that later... Maybe he'd make German sausage for his 'guests'.

Alfred's scarred palms locked onto the handle of his fathers chain saw as he passed where he left it in the hall... He'd been quite long enough.

There were four left.

Four little rodents running free in his house.

He'd have to split them up.

"If this wasn't such a big house, we might have found something by now." Shuffling through papers written in fade or bleeding ink from droplets overhead, Vash endlessly grunted when nothing useful turned up. His sister hadn't returned, he grew anxious for Lily even though he trained her himself in fighting and self defense. Vash, being the older sibling, naturally preferred her under his watchful eyes. Something started crawling along his sleeve and he smack away a large scorpion with a gasp before slamming his foot down.

Ivan turned his attention from the slaughter house on to the Swiss man. "What happened?"

"A bug almost stung me." He wiped off the bottom of his boot with the papers, crumbling it up and tossing it aside.

"Let's not make more of a mess, shall we?" Arthur walked into another door where Kiku opened a chest at the foot of a flea infested mattress. "Disgusting." He muttered. "Make sure to not get any of those on yourself."

"Yes sir." Kiku spoke respectfully, nodding his head as he began searching through the contents. His brows drew together, pulling out several torn, browned photo albums.

"Sir I... Think you should look at this." He turned the pages slowly, photo's of the Jones family... Leatherface, along with his siblings... 'Mama' and 'gramps' and all of the other identified bodies.

Well... All except one.

A little boy hung from Leatherface arm in one of the pictures, eyes shinning brightly at the camera, even through the black and white of the photograph.

Alfred moved up the steps to the second floor. Blue eyes shinning out from behind the bloodstained plastic of his hockey mask. He lowered his chainsaw, recognizing the sounds of men moving about in one of the rooms... Pap's room.

"What I'd kill for to have a can of pesticide right now?" Arthur opened one of his inner coat pockets and wore a surgical mask over his mouth. It wasn't much but, it helped, at least he liked to think it did. Crouching by the Japanese man, the Englishman looked over his shoulder an stared at the baby. "Hm." He removed the photo he had and the two children were the same. "Do you suppose that infant is still here?" His heartstrings tugged for the young one, if they found the little one, Arthur would want to raise such a innocent life. Maybe someone could be saved, he always looked for hope in many situations.

Fingers trailed against scratch marks in the wooden walls of the room adjacent to Arthur's. The wood easily chipped away under Ivan's nails. "Vash, I am thinking there's something behind this." Using his pen, the Russian worked on the walls until flakes fell to his feet.

Lily struggled with the man and once shoved into the freezer like container, she couldn't hold down her need to vomit. After heaving her breakfast onto the floor, bits landing on her clothes, she removed her pants to cover the spilling. Lily didn't want to see churned sausage and pancakes with potatoes. Her pants soaked up the brown and yellow mixture, she threw her coat on top, shivering more. The cellar freezer was cold and icy, meat frozen for cooking and suspended from hooks... Bodies in various states of gutting.

Alfred's hand rested on the ignition of his chainsaw, blue eyes blazing with a violent sort of fire behind his hockey mask as he stopped outside the room.

He pulled the chain.

Kiku jumped back from the wall as the wrenching sound tore through, hand raising in involuntary defense. "What's going on in there?!"

Ivan found cold bars, like that of a jail, just beneath the wall. He jolted at the sound of an engine. He and Vash drew their guns out at the sound of danger, aiming for the door way.

Arthur didn't believe his ears at the roaring from the hallway. "Arm yourself!" He yelled, finger on the trigger of his gun. He looked around and found a few shotguns poking out from under the bed. He hoped he wouldn't need to use them but also hoped that if he did, they were loaded.

Alfred giggled to himself, jamming the rotating blade into the door, churning metal easily cutting through splintered wood.

He went after the two blonds first... He'd get the other and he japaneseman later.

Alfred didn't say anything... He took a card from his paps book... It was more terrifying when you didn't speak.

But pap hadn't killed for the fear.

That was how he and Pap were different.

Backing away from the chainsaw, Ivan took aim at the door where the head would be but forget the broken open window and fell backwards. Turning around to save the Russian man, Vash reached his hand out but was too late as he watched Ivan's back slam into the ground. He was lucky to miss the farm equipment surrounding him.

Arthur heard the sounds and there was no doubt. Slowly he walked to the doorway, ready for anything to barge right in. He hadn't expected this.

The saw suddenly pulled out of the door, Alfred taking a few slow steps back and raising his leg, slamming his booted foot hard into the wood and feeling in crunch inward.

He came in with the chainsaw, blue eyes mad with amusement and focusing in on the remaining Swiss man.

He swung the blade around, aiming for the hand holding the gun.

Vash caught the flash of the chainsaw as he shot. "Leatherface?"

The ripping scream from the other room worried Arthur. "Who's there!?" He yelled, gesturing at Kiku to follow. He flung open the door and prepared himself for anything.

Alfred could have laughed at that... He really thought he was pap.

The bullet just missed Alfred's body, lodging in the loose of his jacket as he turned for another swing at Vash, this time the blade of the chainsaw catching the Swiss' forearm, grinding and tearing through flesh and bone.

Kiku moved quickly towards the door of the room, grabbing the doornob and keeping his gun leveled ahead of him at all times. "We need to help them sir!"

Grabbing a shot gun and tossing it at Kiku. "Use it!" He caught another scream before shooting at a man in the orange coat. "Who the hell is that?" He fired again, blood rushing to his finger tips and heart pounding from the disbelief. That couldn't have been the mad man they all feared! No! He was killed! Gunned down! This man was much thinner than the one photographed. Could it be that the Jones family made a body double? Arthur didn't want distract him mind from the danger at hand.

The shot missed, blowing a hole in the wall as Alfred turned to face them, blood, and chunks of meat churning in the metal chain of his saw.

He charged.

Kiku tried to take a shot at him, but it was no use, the cranking blade of the chainsaw carving through the meat of his stomach, the sickening smell of sewage spilling into the room as his entrails were creamed.

Disembowelment had a very particular smell. Alfred knew. He kind of liked it personally.

Vash, arm dismembered and squirming on the floor, bleed like a burst dam, redness coating the floor broads and dripping to the dinning room table underneath. With the Leatherface man turning his back on him, Vash use his hand which was still attached and fire his last two shots at the man's shoulders before the loss of blood blacken his mind.

Green eyes widen in horror once the Japanese man fell to the metal teeth eating into his skin. Arthur looked at the chainsaw wielding man and stepped away towards the stair case once the bullet flew pass him from Vash. He gave a brief look into the shredded Swiss man laying in the bloody room but, could not find Ivan. He didn't want to leave the two men behind but, his primal instinct for survival pumped adrenalin into his system.

Alfred shrieked in pain when he felt one of the bullets burry itself in his shoulder, wirling around to face Vash.

His death would be painful for that.

He stalked forward, pulling Lilie's gun from his coat pocket and pressing it hard between the Swiss' eyes. His own blue orbs shinning. He considered shooting him. But it wasn't good to kill when you were angry. It wasn't good practice.

With the suppose Leatherface occupied, as much as Arthur didn't like to think about it as such, he hurried down to the stair steps. He needed a plan to remove whoever that man was. It couldn't have been who he thought it was. He dashed too quickly and tripped over the loose carpet, falling against the stairs as he grunted once hitting the bloody floor. He needed to move, no rest for him when escaping a killer! He pushed himself up but cried with a sharp pain striking from his left arm. "Damn it!" He gritted his teeth and pushed on, leaning onto the front door and scrambling onto the porch. He would radio for back up, yes.

Alfred could hear the other scrambling away... Heard and gritted his teeth, whipping the butt of the pistol across Vash' face, into his temple, making sure he was unconscious before clambering after the Brit. He didn't bother to grab his chainsaw, simply moving down the stairs after the British man. Catching up to him easily, despite his head start.

His breath hitched when heavier footsteps followed behind him as he ran towards one of the cars. He didn't bother to look back reaching his hand outwards and almost breaking the handle of the car door off. Fingers gripped the radio and smashed the call button down, he screamed to other line before the hockey masked man got to him. "Back up now! All units! Please! It's alive!" Arthur was unsure if that was Leatherface but, nothing else was brought up to mind. He tried his luck to start the car but realized it wasn't his own.

A sledge hammer crashed into the windshield of the car, sending a spiderweb of cracks shooting out across the plexiglass.

Bright blue eyes blazed beneath the mark of Alfred's hockey mask, a crazed, psychotic sort of rage shaking his frame as he picked up the hammer, this time smashing straight through the glass, and reaching through to pull the detective out through the windshield.

He stopped, when he caught sight of the Brits eyes... Freezing with his hands on his collor and their faces inches apart.

They were... Such a pretty green.

Arthur shielded his eyes from the glass, thankful for the surgical mask catching any that would lodge in his mouth. He tried to climb to the other door to escape but, a beaten hand yanked his whole figure onto the ground. He prayed back up was on their way and hoped they wouldn't be too late. He stared up at the man covering the sun with his body, looking at him. Through the holes of the pale mask, Arthur noticed a sense of familiarity. The eyes. Shaking his hand, he removed the first photograph he found and gasped. There was a child that survived on the property, but it wasn't an infant. He turned the photo and read the words of a name. "Alfred Jones."

His head twitched the the side, still staring straight into Arthur's eyes. His fingers tightened on the form of Arthur's shirt, pulling him up closer to get a better look.

Such a... Such a nice pretty green...

"What's ya'll business pokin' 'round my house?" He broke his usual oath of silence... His family always said he wasn't good at keeping his mouth shut.

And... And he had such pretty eyes...

He gasped once tugged harder and panted lightly with an occasional swallowing of air as his heart pounded against his rib cage. Blood and dirt crusted on the cuts of the man's skin, however, around the blue eyes, the Englishman noticed clean flesh, the color like his own. His eyes held a faint hint of innocence from the photo, Arthur hoped maybe he could turn the murder around as he seemed to spare his life, unlike the lives of Kiku and Vash. He spoke? Arthur nodded and answered. "We're here to collect the weapons and any body remains from the people killed on this property."

"Ya'll bastards already took em!" The man... No... He could have been a teenager with that voice- sapped at him. "Ya took pap and mama and gramps and uncle Tex- hell ya'll to 'a entire family 'cept me!" He glared at him, gritting his teeth. "Ya'll shoulda jus' left a poor devil 'lone." He never would have left the property... He would have been too scared to.

He continued staring at Arthur's eyes' head swerving slightly to get a better look at them... They really were quite pretty... Pap would have liked them. Maybe he could put them on pap's grave.

"The people your family murdered!" He snapped back, getting to his feet, glaring back. Maybe he had some leverage with the boy. Arthur figured out this was really a child, not the man they feared when he was still alive. He had a few guns on his body and if need be, he would use them on the lad. "You have a choice, because you're so young, you have a chance to be a free man after serving time for what you did to my team members." He could find the good in anybody if he saw even an ounce of kindness.

"Ya'll shut up!" Alfred snapped at him, shoving the Brit back hard- hard against the cracked dried earth. "Ya'll don't know nothin' bout me and ya'll don't know nothin' bout my family! You leave the dead alone!" Part of him didn't want to hurt something so pretty... Because he really was pretty. A bird... A little angel like mama used to read him stories about...

He wanted to keep him.

"Ya'll best shut up." He warned him, slamming him back against the dirt one more time for good me sure. "And hold still- gimme ya guns."

A cry of pain escape his throat as he wanted to explain that Alfred needed to stop but, another slam elicited another cry. "Al-Alfred!" He gripped him by the collar of his coat and tossed him as they rolled their positions. No way would he render himself defenseless. He straddled the murder and held him down by his wrist, thinking he had enough strength to. "You must surrender!" Arthur wasn't a cop but, he had to try to save any lives that were left.

Such as Lily, walking slowly in the freezer and bumping into the closely hung bodies of animals and humans. After knocking and trying to break the door, she opted to find a spot free of blood and meat to huddle and preserve any body heat left. She didn't know how long the man intended to keep her inside and it scared her.

Alfred actually laughed at him, locking his hands onto his wrists and shoving him off easily- he was big for his age, and he had an unnatural strength about him... He'd often been told he got it from his father. "This ain't ya game to win Angel." He slammed him hard against the ground once again, letting the back of the smaller males skull connect with the dry earth. "Go to sleep." He slammed him down again and again.

He gasped and cried out with each painful blow but, Arthur would not give in so easily to him. If he did, he may never wake up. One effort he tried, he thought would help at least slow down Alfred from the hurting spears stabbing into his head. Pushing his hands against Alfred's face and ducking his head down so only his back struck the earth, Arthur grabbed the hockey mask and threw it further away. He faced up then his green eyes locked with blue, clearing seeing Alfred's whole face.

The American screamed at him in rage, blue eyes blazing. His teeth were yellowed. Clearly having never seen a dentist, and his hair was matted back and greasy... There was a strink about him, like rot and death and human filth... However there was a certain.. Handsomeness in his features. A youthful, boyish promise that, had he come from different circumstances, had the potential to carry him far in life.

He tried to slam the Brits head back, screaming obscenity at him, accent thickening with his anger until his words were unidentifiably to the British native.

He'd have to make him sorry now... But he wouldn't ruin his angels pretty face... No, no he wanted to keep it... He wanted to be able to see I whenever he wanted.

Arthur couldn't take any more pain but, his life depended on it! His screams fusing with Alfred awoke the Russian who was knocked out from earlier. His back moved with a dull soreness along his spine with a few broken vertebra, he snarled from the ache. He kept moving until he was able to stand on his own two feet. He thought the man with the chainsaw was a nightmare but, after recollecting his thoughts, he remembered it was all true. The voice was the lead detective, still alive. The Russian stumbled over his feet before, dust in his lung, before starting to run to the front of the house, gun in each hand. He gasped at the sight but left no time to think as he shot at the man's shoulder. "Back off!"

Alfred yowled in pain as a bullet tore once again through his wounded shoulder, slamming Arthur hard against the ground one more time before turning around, his good arm groping around until he found Arthur's pistol. "God damn it stay dead!" He was sure he'd seen him go out the fucking window.

Pain riveted from his between his spinal cord and bone but, he went through the roughest training sessions in the military before working in the filed. "God damn your face!" Ivan shouted and aimed for his head. "Get away from him, loh!" Not letting the man throw Arthur down again, Ivan shoved his foot against his waist and kicked him away. He pulled on Arthur's bad arm, dragging him to stand up. "Hooy tebe v zhopu!"

Alfred scowled at him dangerously, lunging at him with the barrel of the gun in his hand... He hit him with the butt. Hard. Wanting to hurt him... Wanting to make him bleed on the inside. Make it so he couldn't move anymore.

He had to keep him down.

Or that bastard would let his angel get away.

"Ack!" Ivan fell to his knees a few feet from the car, spine cracking hard as he grunted with Arthur's arm slung around his neck. He turned and shot behind him, trying to get away from the grasp of the murder. "Poshyel k chyertu! Go to hell!" He cursed between his native language and English. Arthur fumbled with one of his guns and fired as well, mind throbbing hard with pangs of metal inside. He would fight tooth and nail if that's what it meant to survive.

None of them struck Alfred... The American simply kept coming at them, his hand wrapping around the handle of his sledgehammer and bringing it down on Ivan's leg, smirking at the sound of cracking bone beneath the metal... He considered doing the same to the Brit so he couldn't run... But he didn't want to ruin his pretty little angels body just yet.

Leave that for later.

And as it was... He didn't want to kill this Braginski fellow yet... No he wanted to make him hurt first.

"Ah!" He fell and shoved Arthur towards the car as he fell to the dirt, cracking into the ground. "Zhopa!" He spat at Alfred, facing him with a gun, clicking his last bullets to his head. Despite those who always claimed the Russian as a cold man, he was honorable and bold.

The Englishman took his chance and ran into the car seat, scrambling for his keys with jittering hands. He glanced back at Ivan, before looking through his pockets for the blasted keys. If he lived, he swore he would urge the chief to only use button activated cars.

Alfred knocked the gun out of his hand, the pistol skidding across the cracked earth as Alfred raised the sledge hammer, bringing it down hard on Ivan's other shin.

He shouldn't be able to run now.

Hell. He wouldn't be able to walk now.

Which left Alfred... To grab his little angel before he flew away.

Ivan scream losing the feeling in his feet, he growled and shouted another insult at the man. "Ootebya nyet yayeesav! Fight like a real man!" He patted himself to find something, groaning as he bit his tongue to stop any whimpers. He wouldn't allow such a demeaning sound escape his lips. He crawled quickly on his arms, just like in the army, to grab hold of Alfred's ankle and bite with all the force possible.

He shoved the key inside the ignition as the teeth could have stripped the inside and turned. It creaked and didn't start. "Bloody old thing!" He cursed and hit the horn before trying again. He noticed how close Alfred was like last time, Arthur left the key inside and threw himself out of the window and ran to the near by woods, hoping to lose him.

Alfred yowled, kicking to get the Russian off... His booted foot making easy contact with Ivan's nose.

God damn it the Brit was running.

He free'd his ankle, taking off after Arthur- run slightly lopsided from the two bullets lodged in his shoulder.

Shrieking, Ivan covered his nose and glared hard, trying to grab at him but, he moved too quickly. He slammed his fist into the dry earth. "Unbju! I'll kill you!" Violet eyes looked at the house and crawled towards the front door, maybe someone else lived on?

Glad no real harm came to him except for a dull ache in his head, the Englishman moved quickly through the thin woods, cursing himself, breathing harder. He had to get away from that boy, even though he needed saving.

Alfred wasn't terribly concerned with Ivan's threat... He was gaining on Arthur.

He knew these woods like the back of his hand.

He'd grown up in these woods.

He'd killed in these woods.

Arthur didn't stand a chance on Alfred's own home turf.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur tried to pop his shoulder back into place, the pain stopped him as he tried to find any cover that he could. If he remembered correctly, the other side of the road was towards the end of the woods. Crushing rocks and sticks didn't crack as loudly as the closer ones did behind his back. His panting increased as sweat trickled down his chin and neck, damping his coat while maneuvering around the boulders and branches ripping threads of his clothes.

The American jumped out at him from behind one of the boulders, having taken the shorter way around it and finally caught up to him... He smirked, the action visible with his hockey mask missing. And, in a sick sort of way, making him look like nothing more thank mischievous teenager.

Having no time to turn away, Arthur looked at Alfred as an obstacle and lowered his good shoulder and remembered his college years playing rugby. He shoved Alfred side ways to the ground but felt his coat caught in the man's grip and took off the garment to continue running. Trees and stones blended in his vision as he searched for any sign of salvation however, the town was deserted for many years.

Alfred knew he wouldn't find help.

No one was left around for miles.

So it was really just a matter of who would find Arthur first... Him or the wolves.

Cloud climbing a tree help? He breathed in as he didn't see Alfred around and reached for the nearest branch and separated himself from the ground until he was camouflaged into the highest point he could hold, looking downwards for Alfred. He took the time to settled down his chest.

Alfred charged past the tree, looking around wildly for any sign of the Brit. He resisted the urge to scream at him. Knowing that would just give away how far he was.

Finger nails dug into tree bark as his heart beat louder forcing him to breath unsteadily. Fear made itself a nice little home as the detective watched Alfred underneath him. The idea of shooting from the vantage point came to mind but, he felt the teen somehow could be saved. Others saw the face of an evil spawn, not Arthur, he saw that same child scared when he had no one left.

Alfred kept looking for a couple hours... Not giving up until he sun started to go down a little while later.

Fine... If he couldn't have his little angel... No one would.

The wolves would have him.

Alfred turned back to the house.

He followed the trail of blood from outside to where Ivan had passed out at the top of the basement stairs. Bone showing in his ruined shins.

Alfred hooked his arms beneath Ivan's, dragging him down and locking him in the freezer with the girl before going to get the bodies... Wondering absently if that Swiss guy could still be alive with the blood he must have lost.

Arthur waited and waited by the road once he found it but no cars came by. Even the back up would take just as long. The nearest station was a whole county away. He hoped it came soon or that they didn't become lost in the dazing roads of Texas. After waiting, he returned to the dreadful home, against his own will but, he had to find Lily and Ludwig, for he didn't know what happened to them. He noticed a few candle lights and walked around to the back of the home, hoping to stay out of the killer's sight.

Lily's eyes were closed as her heart beat slower and slower. Lids broke open when she heard the sounds of a body thudding on the floor. She crawled closer to the man, noticing it was Ivan.

Alfred went and collected the bodies, pulling Braginski out of the kitchen closet and lying him out on the floor of the basement before going to get the Jap and the Swiss-

He'd never had Japanese before... This would be interesting.

He dragged the two bodies down to the basement, grabbing Vash's severed hand and placing in next to his body... If he wasn't dead yet he would be soon enough. So he didn't bother checking.

Alfred grabbed his chainsaw... Going to cut up the bodies for easier storage.

The revving sound sliced Arthur's heart in two, knowing he wouldn't have anyone to save, however, he knew where Alfred was. Could he offer a trade? Would something like that ever work? It would be the only thing he could do but, futile if everyone wasn't still breathing. Slowly, he entered the home, feeling claustrophobic by the lack of light inside.

Alfred cut off Beilschmidts' arms first, then legs, then head... He sliced open his stomach, setting aside his organs to make sausage later. Then he did the same to the Swiss. Cutting off his head and setting it aside with Ludwig's. Then added Kiku's to the group... He didn't bother trying to take out Kiku's organs. Knowing they they were basally minced from his he was killed.

Green eyes watched from a bleak mirror facing towards the dinning room. Footsteps in blood lead from the kitchen to the front door. He thought someone may have left too but the streaks away from the freedom doubted the detective. Why did he think there was any rescue from Alfred? No one was left and Arthur decided to leave with his life.

Alfred yanked open the door to the freezer, carrying in the body parts slowly... He wasn't really worried about Ivan getting out... But he kept a close eye on Lilly. He brought the heads in last, placing them on a shelf adjacent to the two... His mask was back in place when he entered, not letting the two see his face.

Lily huddled behind a large piece of cow chuck hanging in the back of the freezer, shuddering while wearing Ivan's uniform. Removing the clothes wasn't easy as she swallowed her honor and felt her need of survival over take. She thought only about seeing her brother when covering her body with the little heat left in the clothes. Lily looked between the meat on the ribs of the dead animal, hoping the masked man wanted Ivan more than herself.

Alfred finished placing the heads on the shelf, turning to look over Ivan... His uniform was missing, leaving him in just his shorts and undershirt... Small shivers wracking the unconscious mans form.

Alfred leaned down, hooking his fingers in Ivan's hair and yanking his head up to look at him. "Cold?" His voice was hushed, a slight smirk forming behind his hockey mask. "Good... It's night time you know." And Alfred decided he would wait until morning to play... He'd let them freeze first. Wait for Ivan to regain consciousness.

Russian swears were muttered under his breath, he lodged a cold meat hook, he found on a tray, under Alfred's shoulder blade as he yanked forward, grunting hard. Lily held back a gasped when she found out the Russian was still alive. She scampered her fingers on the cold ground to find a weapon too. A butcher's knife would had to do. She moved her shaking muscles in her legs, jogging but slipping on the smooth metal in the freezer. The blade, however, hit it's target on Alfred's waist as she slid beside Ivan.

The teen yowled in pain, throwing Ivan back hard against the ground in response- he gasped when the knife entered his body, his hand going instinctively to wounded area to yank it out... He didn't bother with his shoulder... It was the bad one anyway. The bullets were still lodged in there. He didn't fall though... He'd felt pain before... A lot of pain. The scars riddling his body were testament to that... Alfred slammed the knife, the same one she'd shoved into his waist, right into the girls jaw.

Growls and grunts exchanged between Ivan's pulling the knife out of Lily's mouth and slashed into Alfred's sides from the angle he was at. Lily held her loose jaw against her mouth, hand gripping the meat hook and hitting him in the head.

"What?" The Englishman turned to the sounds of struggling as his spirits lifted. It sounded feminine more than anything. "Lily?" He dashed back into the kitchen and followed the cries and screams to a colder room. "Ivan! Lily!" The sight of the two fighting against Alfred, bleeding, slipping and beating, worry and fear plastered and mixed upon their faces.

Alfred heard Arthur- heard and knew he would have to think fast if he wanted to keep his pray- hell if he wanted to live.

The teens hand locked onto Ivan's wrist, shoving him down hard against the ground to make him stop, smashing his own knee hard into him so he knew he'd feel the pain in his back, and his ruined shins. He kicked Lily, hard as he could, his head throbbing from where she'd hit him... There'd be a decent welt there later.

Drawing his gun again, Arthur aimed for Alfred's head. "S-stop this!" He shook his nerves and swallowed hard, odor stinging his eyes from the kitchen. Ivan still struggled and moved with the pain through out his body. The Russian bit one of Alfred's arms to release him and so he could fight on. Lily snatched the bloody knife and attacked with both weapons across the man's face, ignoring the burns on her own.

Alfred swore. He could have stopped if he wanted to... He was just glad for his mask protecting his face as Lily came at him with the knife, rolling and grappling with Ivan on the floor... Alfred had once lifted his pap's pick up truck. But Ivan was built like a tank.

"Alfred!" He fired once. "What do you want?" Is it food? He could give food to the teen, that was easy. "Shelter?" Asking desperately, Arthur wanted to leave the house alive with Lily and Ivan, even if everyone else had died. The blonde girl slashed at the mask, hoping to crack it in two and get his face torn apart like her own brother's.

Alfred stopped... Or stopped as much as he could with Ivan still struggling beneath him, and Lily trying to crack open his mask.

"You." His voice was a strange, deadly sort of calm, accent weighing heavily and gruffly on his words. "I want you."

A heart beat stopped as every muscle remained still for a second. His eyes stared with ears open and spine shivering at the tone. "W-what do you mean by that?" Why him? It would explain why Alfred spared him the same 'treatment' as Kiku and Vash.

"You're an angel." Alfred explained it, slamming Ivan down to make him stop moving. "A pretty, perfect angel... Ya got such nice green eyes." He smiled, slamming Ivan down once again. "Angel..."

"Ok, stop that!" Arthur dared a move by holding Alfred away by the shoulders. He didn't want to think what went wrong in the teen's mind but wanted the blood shed to stop. Ivan groaned as his vertebra's broke, holding in his painful scream.

Alfred scowled, behind his mask, head swerving back to look at Arthur, glaring at Lily warily. "Fine." He smirked up at him, though Arthur could see it. The teens eyes dancing.

"Just, stop. Please. I'll..." He really didn't know what he said he'll do if Alfred wanted him. Maybe he wanted to kill him slowly? The Englishman shuddered at the thought. Lily dropped her weapons and tended to the bleeding from her jaw as Ivan scooted closer towards her.

"You'll what?" Alfred shifted slightly into a standing position, one hand griping his hip where Lily had stabbed him... He didn't bother with his shoulder, knowing if he hadn't gotten dizzy from the blood loss by now he didn't have anything to worry about. The teen shifted forward. "What will you do angel?"

Like hell he would say something like anything you want. He watched enough horror movies himself to know where that lead to. "What is it that you want with me?" Seriously, why him? Why did the detective, out of all the others, interest in the murderer?

"I want to keep you angel." Alfred cooed at him. "Look at you. Look how pretty you are." He leaned forward, until he was right in Arthur's face... His fowl breath filtering through his mask.

He nodded and thanked his surgical mask blocked most of the man's breath. "Ok." Staying was the very last thing he wanted to do, besides dying but, he wished for the safety of his remaining team mates. "Just stop hurting them, I'll... be here with you."

Alfred grinned at him. "Ya have my word angel." Not that his word was worth anything... He reached out towards Arthur, petting his hair almost lovingly.

The Englishman didn't know what Alfred intended to do with him but, he did want he would like and stepped closer to the man, ducking his head against his chest, leaning into the touch. What was he going to do?

Lily faced Ivan as he sat up, skull and spine hurting like needles shooting through his body.

Alfred's hand slipped down Arthur's body, finding the pistol at his side and slipping it out. "'ll keep 'at." He grinned at him, standing suddenly. "Ya'll gonna stay down here, ya got me? Ain't nobody leavin'... Not right now."

Arthur allowed him to do so and shuddered from the feeling of Alfred's rough hands against his body. "Ok." He nodded and stayed leaning against the murderer's body. He shuddered with the gun deserting his side. He smiled that the two were still alive but, was fearful still for them. "What are we... going to do?" Not wanting to really know the answer, the detective simply tried to appease Alfred, anything to ensure Ivan's and Lily's survival.

Alfred's hand suddenly tightened in Arthur's hair, jerking him up and yanking him out of the freezer. "Come on." His voice was clipped and demanding.

"Ah!' He screamed under his breath from the sudden pull and followed, staring down at the bloody pathway to the freezer. Really, what the hell was he going to do?

Alfred pulled him up the stairs... through the kitchen to the rest of the house.

He came to a small room near the back of the house... it could have been a mudroom, had it belonged to a different family.

There was a large, metal and plastic crate near the back... like one might keep a big dog in.

Alfred fumbled with the lock only a moment before pulling open the door, shoving Arthur inside of it.

Arthur tried to not yowl at the pain from losing a few strands, staying closely. He hit the bottom of the crate with a grunt and gasped, looking around at the confined space. Cursing under his breath, he prayed he did the right choice for Lily and Ivan. The Englishman didn't know if asking any questions would bring about anger or fury from Alfred.

The teen knelt down in front of the cage a moment, peering in at him through the bars as he turned the lock. "Ya'll stay right here angel. I'll come back in a little bit."

Arthur only nodded, staring in the opposite direction of Alfred. He called him an angel, how did a teen so young know about something as heaven living in a place of hell? He could only listen to the breathing of Alfred's breath and prayed for his comrades.

Alfred watched him for a moment, a spark of fondness in his eyes before he stood. "I'll be back." He turned on his heels, heading back towards the basement. He'd have to make sure that girl couldn't run... And he'd have to do something about that Russian's fighting energy. Even with two broken legs and a cracked back, he still seemed hell bent on fighting.

Arthur didn't know whether to fear that or be relieved. Dying from starvation and being found weeks later wretched his gut as his shuddered at the fate. However, what would Alfred do upon his return?

Ivan laid by Lily's side, violet eyes burning towards the door even as his raised skin shivered from the cold. Being much thinner and smaller, Lily almost lost most of her body heat but, the coat helped her retain what was left.

Alfred returned to the basement... The work area specifically, rutting around in one of he drawers until he found what he was looking for- an old, used needle and a bottle of clear liquid. He filled the syringe all the way, flicking it a little before heading to the freezer... If half full was enough to get pap doped up in the head, a full should be more than enough to keep that big bastard from doing much moving at all. Especially with his injuries.

As for the girl... He'd just tie her up. He didn't want any drugs in her system, in case he wanted to make 'she-stew' later... It would make the meat taste bad.

Not agreeing to whatever deal Arthur and the monster made, Lily kept a meat hook behind her back, under the coat. To help stop her bleeding mouth, Ivan tied his scarf around her jaw. A growl rumbled in Lily's stomach, she was hungry. She wasn't the only one. With the sickness brewing inside, she thought it odd she still could have a hunger.

Alfred pushed open the door to the freezer, blue eyes locking on Lily first and shoving the syringe into the deep pocket of his orange overcoat... His blue eyes locking with hers as he stared out at her from behind the hockey mask. "Ma'am." His voice was almost mockingly polite.

Upon hearing her name, Lily tensed up and stared at the man with her Russian partner. He sat up before her and shielded with his own body. "You're not going to leave us here to die?" Her jaw line cracked as it stung to form words with ripped facial muscles.

Alfred smiled sweetly. "Course not miss." His hand wandered into his pocket, locking onto the syringe. "What'd make ya'll think that?" He moved suddenly, slamming his foot into Ivans chest and shoving him downwards and grabbing him by the wrist, twisting his arm back and slamming the needle into the crook- almost certain he'd hit the vein and he sunk it in.

With her remaining strength, Lily shoved Alfred off Ivan, thinking he poisoned him and grabbed the needle, throwing it away from the scene. "Ivan?" She held him up and looked over his pale complexion, he was mumbling something in Russian as he went very limp. "What did you do?"

"Nothin terrible miss." He smiled at her behind the mask. "Jus' a bit oh somethin to drug him up enough so he don't fight or nothin." He'd seen mama give it to his pap and uncles quite a few times... She'd told him plenty about it, but not what it was called.

He took a step towards her.

Lily crouched down, not knowing what the other man what up to. She wished they were at home instead, eating chocolate covered cherries with her bother by the fire and talking about their future. That seemed bleak as Alfred came closer. "Get back!" She stood with her voice as strong as it could reach.

Alfred ignored her order lunging forward and grabbing her by the shoulders, shoving her back and down.

Yanking to her feet, Lily tried turning her body to get out of his grasp, looking back at Ivan who moved sluggishly

Alfred ignored the Russian- knowing there was no way in the world he'd be able to do much of anything in a few minutes. He grabbed hold of the woman's wrists, pushing her back hard against the wall. "Now stop ya'll squirmin!"

Much time had passed since the Englishman heard a faint shriek or felt a shiver of dread. Swallowing dryly, Arthur pushed against the walls of the crate and thought about his actions leading up to the moment. Not many were good.

Alfred tied Lily down tightly, dragging her out of the freezer and strapping her down to the work table before going to back grab Ivan- he filled the syringe again, sinking the needle hard into his arm- here was always the risk he would overdose him, but he wouldn't be coherent for at least 24 hours. Let alone awake and fighting. He'd strap him down anyway after he got his angel.

Lily shook hard against the table, trying to get out of his grip as she grunted through her still bleeding jaw. Damn, it didn't stop. Facing the near soulless looking Russian sent tremors to Lily's bones, wishing to be gone, hoping this was all just a nightmare.

Alfred hurried up the stairs, closing the door to the basement hard and locking it for good measure before going back to get Arthur, poking his head down to the dog crates level.

Green eyes met the innocent blue past the crate barrier. They appeared innocent at least. His mouth dried as he licked his lips, thinking of something to do.

Alfred smiled at him from behind the hockey mask, hooking his fingers in the bars of the crate. "You hungry angel?" He was getting hungry himself... He hadn't eaten a lot lately... Since the raid.

Indeed his stomach craved food after the passing hours, however, he knew how the Jones family ate. Arthur, though, did not desire to see the effects of denying Alfred's offer. "I am."

Alfred smiled at him brightly. "I'll make something." He stood quickly, turning back towards the basement... "Do you like sausage?" He was thinking of the German in the freezer... It would take a bit longer to make from scratch right now, but it'd certainly be worth it. He was a good cut... Not to much fat, healthy looking organs.

That sounded... safe. Arthur swallowed and nodded, answering with a small voice. "Yes."

"Good!" He turned to hurry back down into the basement to get the meat. "Ya'll hang on now!" He should probably feed the girl and the commie too... But that could wait.

He moved right past them to the freezer, pulling the German's organs out of the crate he'd stored them in, in his haste, ignoring the blood that further soaked his jacket as he cut them, gathering a good amount into his arms before turning to head back upstairs.

Getting lost wasn't one of Gilbert's best qualities, though, when driving in a country with streets he never even bothered to learn he sure seemed like he knew to be bad at his job. He should of had a map since the team might have found themselves in grave danger. The distress call from the detective turned all the faces in the force pale. All of the units followed the head of the office, Gilbert, to the house, but, as stated, he couldn't find it. Night time grew as their hearts sunk lower.

Alfred wasn't worried about anyone coming any time soon... he'd have the night to prepare for arrivals.

If the dark didn't keep them away, the animals surly would.

The American spent an hour in the kitchen... the smell of cooked meet floating through the house to where Arthur had been stuffed.

It seem impossible but, Arthur manged to take a small nap against the crate. He dreamed of laying in a grassy field where white butterflies fluttered around his head and the sunlight warmed his body comfortably. It was a nice dream compared to the damp and cold whereabouts he currently stayed in. What was that scent?

Alfred tapped the meat onto a couple slightly chipped plates, turning back towards we're Arthur was... He opened the door too the crate, shoving the plate in before closing it again quickly. "Try in angel."

Startled by the rude awaking, Arthur gasped and recognized the misery before him. He faced at the plate and took in the scent of the meat, worrying about its origin. "You don't trust me outside? Do you plan on keeping me in here?"

Alfred shrugged, to be honest he didn't have much of a plan at all... Just to kill as many of the re enforcements as he could when they got here.

And have some fun before they did.

Arthur poked and sighed before pulling down his mask and nibbled at the meat. Chewing, savoring and swallowing, he waited for any poison or drug to kick. It was alright as he didn't cough any blood or see spots. He continued to eat as it silenced his stomach.

Alfred's smile broadened behind his hockey mask, taking his own plate and lifting his hockey mask to eat... He'd been right. The German was a good cut of meat. He'd have to try and make him last.

The Americans face was... Childish, Arthur had already gotten a glimpses at it once before, but now that he wasn't trying to kill him... He could have passed for any ordinary teenage boy. Had he washed himself and seen a dentist... He might have even been handsome, the kind of kid a mother would point to and say, 'look that's my son.'

But that would be in a different world... A different universe.

A sip of water sounded like a luxury to the Englishman after finishing his food. He worried he would drink the body fluid of the poor soul from the boiling pot. Choosing the task of searching in the Jone's home seemed easy which Arthur looked for after investigating for weeks. He was far from wrong. He wouldn't want this upon anyone, trapped, alone, and... as much as he didn't think to admit it, afraid. He ran into many psychopaths and murders in his line of work but, the fear wasn't the obvious, he wasn't afraid of dying.

Alfred set down his plate when he was finished, leaning forward to stick his fingers through the bars of the cage... Like a little kid trying to pet a rabbit. "I like ya angel." He liked him a lot... And he considered for a moment asking if there was anything he needed.

Doing whatever he needed to do to assure his survival, Arthur looked at the dirty and flawed fingered before leaning into the touch ducking his head down. "Thank you." He replied with eyes lowered, eating the last bits of the meal. He was fearing when the time came to take Alfred's life, he couldn't do it. He still saw a child before him.

Alfred smiled at him brightly but winced when he leaned back, the action pulling at his wounded shoulder... He should tend to it soon... Among other things. "I have ta go do something's Angel. I'll be back soon. Promise."

"Alright." He breathed in and covered his mouth again with the mask to filter out any mold from the wooden crate. That promise wasn't something he minded broken.

Alfred returned to the kitchen... Filling two more plates with the meat and setting them on the table to take down before going to the bathroom. He stripped off his jacket an shirt there, eyeballing his wounded shoulder before pulling the bottle of disinfectant and that bandages out of the drawer, cleaning it quickly as best he could and bandaging it. He slipped his shirt back on afterwards, then his fathers orange jacket over it, flipping down his hockey mask a he went back to the rest of his chores.

He appeared in the basement... Grabbing the drugged Russian by his wrists and binding them together, retreating a meat hook from the freezer and stringing it up from the ceiling. Hanging Ivan off of it so his feet dangled above the ground. He set his plate down on the floor in front of him, planing to feed him later... He eyeballed the Russians shins, noting that it looked as though both broken bones had been set off where they should be, and would heal wrong if left... Not that he particularly cared... He didn't like this Russian bastard... He wanted to make him hurt.

As for the girl...

Muscles overworking, Lily shivered more and more with eyes frozen onto the door. Her stomach rumbled like thunder as she grew a hatred for the villain. She only watched and waited as he hung Ivan by his wrists but strangely looked at the plate on the floor. Her glands began to salivate from the sight and smell.

The American came over to her next... Setting the plate of meat down next to her head and picking up a piece, dangling it in front of her face for her to take. "Mama says it ain't polite to keep a lady waitin'."

She wouldn't submit to him and huffed above a whisper. "I'm surprised you would have any manners left." As if that monster retained any human qualities. Damn her mouth though, she wanted that tasty looking treat!

"M' plenty polite miss." He smiled at her. "You're the one trespassin' and such. 'M defending my property." Perhaps it wasn't the bulk of the reason... But oh well.

That smile nearly took away her appetite. "You killed." Her mouth formed the words while her eyes lingered on to the meal which cooled.

"So did ya'll." Alfred shrugged. "My pap's gone cause o' you... So's my uncles and mama and Gramps and even Grandma." He scowled slightly. "You's took 'em away from me... Lef' me here all alone... Wha' else 'm I supposed to do?" His accent thickened as he spoke... Agitation or anger. It could have been either of the two.

"That had to be done to save the lives of those you murdered!" A warmth filled her chest as she breathed a little easier. "You should die then if you miss your rotten family so much."

The plate clattered down next to her head, Alfred's eyes burning. "Ya'll wanna talk about family?" He turned on his heels- towards the freezer. He returned to the ice fridge, his breath coming in a long puff as he looked around a moment, finding what he was looking for and taking it off the shelf.

He shoved it into her face- her brothers glassy, unseeing green eyes barely visible behind the blood soaked blond hair hanging into it. The disembodied skull inches from her face. "See how ya'll like it!"

This made her scream and scrambled back. Her brother was the only one that could break down the walls she built up around the men to prove she belonged with them on the force. Lily, covered her weeping eyes, forgetting the pain in her jaw. "I'll kill you for that!"

"That's how I felt, miss." Alfred's eyes were dark. He dropped the head onto the ground like a piece of trash, reaching out to grab hold of her forearm. "Now ya'll behave- 'er you're gonna be next."

Hearing the sound of something thudding, Lily shook her head to not acknowledge what it was. "You deserve to die." She manged to utter out, still covering her wet eyes and jerked back from the hold on her arms.

"An ya'll deserve worse." Alfred's hand tightened on her arm, yanking her forward- forward so she could smell his rancid breath, forward so she could see his burning blue eyes. "You're gonna die her misses. Don' you make no mistake."

"Only after you." Facing away from the skin burning breath, Lily struck his face with closed eyes. She heard something which she used to fear and now, it sounded like the singing note of a great being above. Lily heard gunshots.

Arthur heard them too, his heart lifted at the thought back up finally arrived. He began to stand, crate creaking but could only see lights upon car lights from the window. "Oh dear lord." He ducked his head down, breathing easier. "Thank you."

Alfred tensed, his teeth setting in a hard line as he pushed himself off the floor, his fist connecting hard with the girls throat as he stood, taking off towards the upstairs.

He needed to get to his uncles arsenal... His assault rifle would help...

How heart warming did the fires of many bullets breaking into the wooden house and shattering the glass windows sound to Arthur at a moment like this? He could finally rest, knowing he would be safe soon. He could hear the many different tones and orders of the men outside, felt the front door collapse and foot step vibrate the home, searching and calling out names of the fallen.

Gilbert, Feliciano, Yao, Natayal, and so many others barged in to stop the cry they could only hear from the other end of the radio call. Each had a loved one who was on the team to scout the home and each were fearing the worse as they poured into the living room, blaring flash lights.

Alfred already had the assault rifle when they entered the house... Taking his stand at the top of the staircase and opening fire the second they broke threw the door... He wouldn't go down without a fight. This was for pap... For every bit of hell he'd been through since they left him all alone.

They knew what Leatherface looked like, this one was the spitting image of the man, except only thinner. Gilbert signaled everyone to fire at once at the firing fool on the top of the stairs. Their guns raised and all of the force shot back, except for Ivan's sister who preferred throwing daggers.

Alfred ducked behind the door frame to avoid the flying bullets, fumbling in his jacket pocket for a moment before pulling out another pack of ammunition, reloading his gun and firing blindly around the corner down the stairs.

He didn't want to die... but he wouldn't stop till he ran out of amo.

"Arthur!" A voice in an Austrian accent called as the blinding light flooded into the crate. Heavy green eyes lifted up as he grinned. He was going to be saved from this Hell hole. With a dry mouth, he named back, trying to lift the top of the wooden prison for his freedom.

"Roderich." Him and another blonde man with glasses pulled with grunts to break open the crate. Even though Arthur wasn't too familiar with them he hugged both men before explaining. "I think the boy, Alfred, the remaining Jones member can be... turned around." His foolish remark went unheard.

Alfred was still in a firefight with the men and woman below... but he was running out of bullets fast, and they didn't seem to be. As he went to turn from his barrier and open fire again he felt a sharp pain bury itself in his chest- the same side as his wounded shoulder, and he gasped in pain as he felt it tear through his body, dropping the gun in his hand and stumbling back behind the cover of the wall, gripping his chest to slow the bleeding and finding himself crawling into the nearest room for shelter... his old room... His blood spattered down from between his fingers, landing on old crayon drawings, on Mother Goose books and finger paintings he'd done in blood...

He had a knife in one of the drawers... not that, that would do him much good against bullets, but if he could maybe...

Alfred fell against the wall, gasping hard for air as the pain in his chest seemed to spike, and he tossed off his hockey mask in an attempt to breath easier.

The team below hurried to follow except Natalya and Gilbert who searched the kitchen, eyes trailing the blood to an opened, cold room. She charged inside, blades first and found Lily laying unconscious but her eyes fell into a rage when seeing her brother bloodied and hanging by his wrists. "Get the medics!" She yelled at Gilbert, radio in hand.

Running to the shots fired, Arthur's chest tightened with worry unlike Roderich and Berwald. The Englishman pitied the poor soul, the last member of the Jones family, he was all but a scared and alone child. He understood the rampage with the chainsaw and sorrow he felt finding his family dead. Arthur wanted to help in the end.

Alfred's breathing was heavy as he heard the officers moving up the stairs, his hand squeezed against the bullet hole in his chest to stop the bleeding... It hurt.. But he could deal with pain... For he first time I his life he felt... Scared. He didn't want to die... And in his mind he was sure they would kill him. These people had no sympathy... He wanted them all to go away... Wanted his family back... Hadn't mama said the Jones family would never die out?

Shining their flashlights into the bedroom, uncaringly crushing over photos and dirty toys with their boots, back up surrounded the man to leave him without any escape. Guns all pointed but not a shot left as they stared down at the man. "Alfred!" Arthur called out, weaving his way through the officers and getting closer to the man in the middle.

Alfred looked up suddenly, blue eyes locking on the Brit. "Angel?" He smiled up at him suddenly, ignoring the other officers and their guns. "You're... still here?"

Arthur knew why he was there in front of the mad man and kneeled by him, hoping to not be taken hostage. "I am. I..." Shuddering, he reached out his arms and gently held the teenager. Could Alfred accept mental help if given the offer or would he push it away and end up dead? Arthur felt like he was protecting him as if he were his own child.

Alfred looked surprised, wincing slightly as Arthur pulled him close, shifting his bullet wounds. "What angel?" His voice was almost soft... Blue eyes darting up to glare at the officers watching them. He wanted them to go away... Leave them alone...

"You have to surrender, Alfred." Replying with a low, caring tone. "Or else they'll kill you." The clicks and cocks of the guns confirmed his warning.

Alfred made a noise of displeasure, averting his eyes for a long while. He... He didn't want to die... And what would Pap say? If he knew Alfred let the family line die out? He would turn over in his grave... No. He had to pick his battles... The war was over, but he'd lost this fight. "Fine."

He expected retaliation, not acceptance. Before Arthur could ask anything, Roderich pulled him away and threw Alfred on his stomach, cuffing his wrists together. Guns withdrew as the Austrian pulled him to his knees. "You are under arrest."

Alfred didn't say anything the gears of his mind turning at fifty miles per minute... He didn't want to leave, no, no, he wanted to stay in his home... Where he had the advantage... But he was outnumbered... He'd have to wait, have to play along... He'd just have to be patient...


	3. Chapter 3

Plane tires touching down onto the large runway startled Arthur awake from his slumber, returning home. He jolted upwards, almost knocking the food on the tray before him. With tired eyes, he faced the opened window, seeing landmarks of his home country, England.

Alfred was already awake, blue eyes peering around the inside isle of the plane, catching the occasional peak out the window... He had never been on a plane before, hell, he'd never left his county before a few years ago... He was curious, though wether he liked it or not he wasn't yet sure... He turned to look at Arthur. He'd been... Confused when he'd come to get him at the juvy prison... He'd been told they wouldn't let him go without a supervisor, but he didn't really believe they'd actually find anyone to take him, let alone his angel... He was surprised he was willing.

Green eyes looked over at blue ones, lightly feeling warmer inside his chest. Perhaps it was because he was helping a lost soul back into the real world. A fresh start, he thought and smiled at Alfred. The young man made a big change over the years. He appeared much better after proper care in the prison, well, more like a mental hospital. Alfred did look, dare he say, attractive. "Are you excited?"

The American shrugged his shoulders, his tongue running over his teeth as he thought about it... it still felt strange for them to be so clean. But the people had insisted he needed to brush them all the time, he'd pried off the brasses they'd put on him though... so the gap was still there between his teeth. "I dunno." He wasn't sure how to feel about all this... on one hand, he didn't exactly like all this extra effort and such he was expected to put into grooming himself... on the other... he'd always liked adventure. Always dreamed of exploring far away places... England was pretty far away.

Arthur pried his eyes off from the young man, sighing as other passengers yawned, stretched or gathered their luggage from overhead compartments. The Englishman waited until only a few people were left to search for their bags and carry them out to the exit and walked to the baggage claim, making sure Alfred was following. "I'm happy to be home though."

"Hm." Alfred nodded... Home sounded pretty nice right about now... but he decided not to mention it, instead focusing his attention on the crowed airport. "Seem's... loud doesn' it?" Different from what he was used to... he was out of his element here. Surrounded by so many people, so much noise and business and activity... it was almost exciting, even if it put him on edge.

An arm held gently around Alfred's shoulders, comforting him. "It's ok, we'll be leaving really soon, back to my house." With their suitcases and after finding his brother, Alistair, to drive them home, Arthur stared at his former home. Alistair didn't say much and waved good bye before unloading their luggage and leaving. "Better?" He asked, opening the front door and turning on the light.

Alfred shrugged. "'ll be honest Angel... I just don' know what to make of all this." He looked around the house... it was... quaint, comfortable, if a little more sophisticated then his was used to. "All seems kinda..." Not real... it was like a whole different planet out here.

"You don't have to call me that, Alfred." The Englishman forced his blush away from the pet name and took their bags to the bedroom and unpacked their clothes. Arthur certainly had many more than the American for obvious reasons. After taking him into custody and evidence from the house in Texas, they burned it to the ground, hoping to smother out the past, never to resurface.

"But I like to call ya Angel." Alfred raised and lowered his shoulders, following Arthur into the bedroom... Not knowing where else to go.

Alfred had cried when he found out the house was burned... Cried and cried until he'd tasted blood in his mouth and one of the guards had enough pity to sedate him... His entire life had been spent in that house, on that property. All his pictures... The toys his uncles gave him, the pictures pap helped him draw when he was little... Everything that mattered was taken away... No family, no home to go back to... All he really had was his Angel now.

He wished he had something else to hold onto.

Then again, he didn't know if he ever told Alfred his name. "You may call me Arthur." Angel seemed to a name given to one who gives salvation to another. In a way, Arthur did rescue the troubled teen from certain death. Maybe it was fitting for the situation. The Englishman kept a few items from the nightmare out of pity and hoped one day, he could give them back to Alfred but he feared those ideas of killing would returned and held onto them. The photo of Alfred as a child with his father, he always hid in his coat pocket, hoping to see the innocence back in those blue eyes.

Alfred shrugged. "Alright Angel." He was stubborn... Not easily swayed from his decision, or his habits... A fact that could be very dangerous, especially given his past. "What'm I supposed to do here anyway?"

"This will be your new home with me. I'm suppose to watch over you and make sure you get a good start in the world." Arthur explained as he laid shirts and pants out onto the bed.

"Yeah but what exactly am I supposed to do?" He'd never been to school, ( he didn't count the couple years of lessons he'd been subject to in prison.) the only business he knew was the one pap taught him.

Butchering.

Arthur had discuss this detail with the judge who ordered the teen to prison and anything dealing with people or killing were out of the question. Desk work at home seemed the best employment at the time being. The detective researched and selling products like make up, pet food or kitchen wear seemed easy enough for Alfred to handle. "We've already have a few jobs for you to take. It's really simple and easy, you just need to pick one and I'll help you."

The American nodded, "Sounds kinda borin'." He moved around the bed so he was standing by Arthur, tilting his head to the side. "'nd where do I sleep?"

Arthur patted his bed then walked down the hallway and opened a door by his bedroom. "Here, the guest bedroom for you. I have set up a computer for you to start working."

"I don' know nothin' 'bout computers Angel." Alfred's brow furrowed as he entered, looking around the bedroom curiously.

"That's why I'm here or rather you're living with me." Arthur turned on the computer and waited for it to start loading.

The American made a face, pulling up a chair next to him and leaning over to look at the screen. "Seems like to much sittin' for my likin'."

The teaching of selling products and accepting or denying the purchase consumed most of the day but Alfred seemed to get the hang of it. "I'm going to make some pudding and scones for dessert now." The Englishman rubbed his eyes, making his way to the kitchen for dinner.

Alfred nodded, staring at the computer in front of him in bewilderment... What it did was awesome... But he kinda wanted to take it apart to see how it worked... Same with when he was a kid. He'd taken everything apart. The toaster, bugs, people... He was curious.

Arthur felt rather comfortable leaving the adult, since Alfred was eighteen, alone in the separate room, as he poured batter into cupcake tins after cooking beef and mashing potatoes. He never knew why people always screamed about his food as horrible. The man had taken lessons and developed a much better skill at it.

Alfred was on the brink of looking for a screwdriver when the smell of cooked meat wafted into the room... That smelt pretty good... Not the good kind of meat but still pretty good. And Alfred's stomach agreed strongly.

Within minuets, Arthur plated a simple meal for them both, meat with mash potatoes and vegetables. He poured milk for them both as he started kneading dough for the scones. "I hope he likes this." The last thing Arthur looked forward too was another man having a foul taste for his food.

Alfred poked his head in the kitchen, looking around for a moment curiously before entering, his hands in his pockets. "What'ch ya'll makin'?"

Spreading cherry jam over one section of dough before adding the other section and sealing the ends, Arthur cut the dough into triangles. "A classical dish, Shepard's pie, Yorkshire pudding and jam filled scones for dessert."

"Sounds British." Alfred commented, going to peer over Arthur's shoulder at what he was doing.

"Well, we are in England." He hinted and sat at the table after placing the scones into the oven.

Alfred simply shrugged. "I s'pose..." He went to take a seat as well, the chair scrapping a little on the floor as he did. He set his forearms on the table, glancing over at the Brit curiously. "Never had anythin' foreign like dat."

English ears couldn't handle any more of the tarnished language the country he was born in originated from. He knew Alfred was given lessons but, he didn't listen obviously. Arthur sighed and began eating, praying the American knew some decent manners.

Alfred had been told how he was supposed to talk in prison... His accent was horribly thick, even compared to most Americans. But he was a creature of habit. He didn't like changing things about himself or his life... He didn't handle change well.

Alfred kept his elbows on the table and held his fork wrong, but other than that his manners weren't terrible... Though he did talk with his mouth full and chew like a horse.

How was this man going to fit into society if he acted rude? Hell. "How do you expect to find a love one if you act like this?" Arthur asked, sighing with rolling eyes. "Let me show you." His fingers fumbled and forced Alfred's to correctly hold the eating utensil. "And do not speak with your mouth full and chew with a mouth closed."

Alfred blinked at him, slightly confused. "Why would I want some love' one angel? All I need is you." His family was dead. After all. And he wasn't so sure about all of this civilizing. It confused him, made him feel uncomfortable.

That brought a large amount of red to Arthur's cheeks as he nearly choked on his food. 'He didn't mean it like that. He's still childish.' He told himself as he coughed, clearing his throat. "I sure you'll change that within time."

Alfred shook his head. "No Angel... I don't want no body else. I like you." He reached over, to Arthur, patting his hair fondly.

"You don't want /anybody/ else." He corrected, hoping to change the subject, eating another bite. A the moment, Arthur wished was married therefore, Alfred wouldn't talk about his feelings. Then again, Alfred maybe just be speaking like a child to a pet or family member.

"Exactly!" Alfred grinned at him, reaching across the table towards the Brit. "You get it, Angel... I really do like you."

The Englishman ignored the comment and sipped from his glass. "Finish your dinner before it gets cold." He pointed to the meal before Alfred.

Alfred huffed slightly, like a child denied their favorite toy. But he went back to his meal like he'd been told.

The dinner table was quiet the rest of the time until Arthur collect their plates and utensils. He washed the dishes and dried them with a cloth towel and put them away.

Alfred hovered around him, peaking over the Brits shoulder curiously... He was getting bored.

"What ever happened to them other people in that invasion squad I' your's? The mean lady and the bastard?" He hoped he'd at least managed to cripple the Russian, overdose him if he was lucky... He'd really wanted to kill him.

Hands stopped scrubbing the sponge into the plate for a second before moving again. "That's not something we're suppose to talk about." To help depress the memories, the acts and deaths were never to be mentioned. "Go turn on the computer, I need to teach you."

Alfred huffed at him angrily, but turned on his heels towards the guest room... He'd take the computer apart later. Teach him.

The oven dinged, indicated the scones were done and ready. Arthur set aside his work and change the gloves for oven mitts. All they needed was some powder sugar and they would be perfect. Placing them on the counter and pouring generous amounts of white sweetness, the scones had a trip into the broiler for a few seconds. After placing them onto smaller plates, Arthur took them into the guest bedroom.

Alfred had a screwdriver jammed into the CD slot on the computer when Arthur came in, dropping it quickly and trying to put on an innocent look.

"What the hell are you doing?" Alfred couldn't fool anyone, Arthur was still a detective, he knew a lying face when he saw it. "I'm sure I didn't leave a screwdriver in here."

Alfred shrugged, flipping the potentially dangerous object across his fingers. "Yeah well... I woulda put the computer back together."

"I'm not letting you toy around with, Alfred." Arthur swiped the tool and gave him the plate with a scone.

The American glared, picking up the scone and eying the unfamiliar food for a moment before taking a bite, swallowing. "Taste good." He was always honest, so it was the truth. "But I don't see the point in equipment you can' actually take apart and put back together."

Someone actually liked his food for once and the Englishman was surprised at this and smiled. "Thank you." Arthur sighed heavily. "The point to a computer isn't to take it apart. I'll let you mess with a cheap camera if you need to."

Alfred made a face at him before going to turn the computer on... He got that at least, Arthur had already showed him the basics, but it all sounded pretty boring. "Why can' I work outside?" He didn't like the idea of being cooped up in a house... He'd spent two months underground after his family was killed. He didn't want anymore indoors.

"I don't have internet access outside, Alfred. Besides, I need to keep an eye on you." Arthur leaned on the door frame and rolled a sore shoulder. He needed a massage soon from working so hard all his life. "If you need anything, I'll be in my room." Bedtime sounded great at the moment as Arthur headed to the door near Alfred's.

"I di'n mean on the computer." Alfred grumbled, watching Arthur go with a pout. He supposed he mine as well try though... Who knew. Maybe he could get something out of it.

Arthur had explained google to him... Maybe he could get a couple answers on there?

Without giving much thought, Arthur undressed to just with his boxers on and laid down on his bed, hearing bones pop and muscles relaxing into his cool sheets. He needed this rest after the plane ride, car drive and cooking lunch with Alfred. His nerves calmed down drastically after picking up the adult from the prison earlier that morning. He didn't know if the lad would change from his life at the Jones home but, he seemed much calmer.

Alfred didn't remember the names of the other agents (they were unimportant) but he guessed if he typed in his name and Arthur's something would come up.

He was right.

Article after article popped up on the screen, older ones about his father... And quite a few about him as well. 'Heir to the horror house' 'The evil that will not die.' 'Teen found in famed Jones house kills three.' He selected the last one. Least interesting, but it seemed to be the most realistic one.

Three killed, one maimed in clash with a survivor of the raid on the Jones house in October. The party of six was ambushed, Officer Beilschmidts, detective Honda and Officer Zwingli were found dismembered in the basement freezer, part of Beilschmidts intestine and stomach missing, and signs show that Jones forced at least one of the remaining agent to engage in cannibalism. Head Detective Arthur Kirkland was found with very minor injuries, and Lillie Zwingli was found with only minor hypothermia. However officer Braginski suffered two broken shins and a fractured back. Injuries that will most likely remain his entire life.

Alfred smirked in satisfaction at that.

Information on the killer- Identified as Alfred Franklin Jones by papers found in the house- is scarce but some reports tell us there is a strong possibility he will be free from prison by the time he is eighteen.

Arthur knew the following years well after that horrific night. Ivan's sisters took well care of him in the hospital even though he was treated by doctor's. Natayla showed up at the prison a few times to seek revenge against Alfred but the guards knew what she was up to and didn't allow it. Relaxing more, Arthur hoped to put it all behind him in the coming months, thinking Alfred changed for the better.

Alfred continued reading through article after article... It was pretty interesting to read about himself... A lot more interesting than the stupid work Arthur wanted him to do. It just wasn't his style.

He didn't really get what Arthur expected of him... He didn't want to change.

Arthur would give the lad an hour or so before checking on him. He didn't want to treat him like a child but he had to start somewhere with him. Opening the curtains from the above window, English ears heard the loud rolling of thunder, something he missed and was used it.

Alfred's froze in his seat when the sound pricked his ears, his eyes widening slightly. "Aw no." He stood from his seat. "No, no, no-" he closed the computer quickly, ringing his hands as he started pacing. No no no... No where to hide here. No tunes to crawl into, no pap to keep the monsters away- he yelped when the thunder rolled again, an undignified, unmanly sound. He covered his ears, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Sheets fell off his shoulders as he went on his knees and reached for the pane knobs. Welcoming the scent of rain, Arthur opened the window just a tad and sighed. Stretching his hand out, letting the rain droplets splatter on his flesh, his spine shivered from another rumble as lighting struck in the distance. "I love the weather here." Arthur laid back down on top of the sheets, enjoying the cool breeze from over head.

Alfred yelp once again, pacing back and forth rapidly across the room. He'd grabbed a pillow by now, using it to cover his ears. But it didn't block out the sound. "No, no, no- ah!" He jumped resisting the urge to cry. "Stop it." The sky didn't listen of course... It never did.

Angel... Mama had said the Angels made thunder. Angel could make it to away.

Moaning from the bed covering him in soothing relaxation along with the storm waging outside, Arthur felt at peace for once in a while. Funny how being in the same home as the adult Arthur calmed down. He knew he had to find out if Alfred continued to do his job but the bed called for him to stay.

Alfred hesitated only a moment outside of Arthur's door before another clap of thunder drove him to knock furiously on the Brits door... he resisted the urge to barge right in. though he sure as hell wanted to.

"Y-Yes?" Sitting up from his small drift into a nap, the English native rubbed his eyes and covered his chest with the sheet. "Alfred?"

"Open the door." His voice was slightly urgent, pillow still pressed over his head and eyes squeezed shut. He jumped, barely containing a noise of fear.

That sounded important. "Ok, give me a moment." Arthur dressed himself until decent and parted the door from it's frame, wondering why Alfred came to him all of a sudden.

The American was shaking like a newborn kitten when by the time the door was finally opened, his lip quivering as another crack of thunder made him jump. "Make it stop."

Alfred didn't look wet, why was he shaking like he was cold? Arthur looked at him and opened his arms when the other man almost sprang out of his skin. "Make what stop?"

The American nearly tackled him, his arms wrapped tightly around Arthurs chest. tight enough to completely knock the wind out of him. "The noise. Make it stop. Make the monsters stop." They could only be monsters after all.

The grab threw them both against the bed as Arthur held him back around the shoulders. Noise? "You mean the thunder outside?" He asked as another bolt struck, lighting the room for a moment.

Alfred was shaking hard, his body jerking in fear as the lightning lit up the room. He nodded, pressing his face hard against Arthur's chest.

Not letting go, he laid with the scared American and stroked his head. Hard to believe the murder was afraid of the natural elements, he found it humorous but did not laugh. He cooed him, like he would to a child.

Alfred squeezed a little tighter when the thunder struck again, a small noise coming from the back of his throat. "Make it stop."  
>All that Arthur could do was shut the window and continue stroking Alfred's head. "Shh..." He had no god given ability to control nature but knew Alfred's fear grew with each roll of thunder. "Just listen to me." Whispering lowly and stroking clean and soft blonde locks, the Englishman sung, hoping to advert Alfred's attention.<p>

The American relaxed just slightly against Arthur's body as he started singing, his face kept buried in the Brit's face away from the thunder.

Singing wasn't something Arthur wrote down in resumes, he wasn't so proud of a feminine ability but, it seemed to do the trick in calming down Alfred as he continued.

A lot of time passed before the storm finally subsided. And even then Alfred wasn't willing to let go of Arthur, simply keeping his arms wrapped tightly around him.

Words turned into low mumbles as Arthur's voice faded, his stokes slowed down as his hand tired of the motion. With a man holding on top of him, he some how grew weary enough to almost fall asleep. He kept green orbs open for Alfred's sake.  
>However Alfred didn't let go of him. Not even when his breath had evened out and it became apparent he'd fallen asleep on top of him.<p>

Arthur didn't want to wake him by nudging the boy off despite feeling warm from the added weight on his body. Drowsiness over took him either way as he slipped into a uncomfortable slumber.

Alfred didn't wake up until the next morning, but didn't really feel like getting off of him... So he didn't.

Thanking the stars he didn't pass out for the lack of oxygen, Arthur tried to move out from under the other male, needing to start the day of breakfast. "Are you awake?" He asked, tugging on the arm of the once murderous man, his head close to the detective's neck.

He American made an noise of complaint, stirring slightly. "Go ba' ta sleep angel." His accent was thick, slurred slightly with his grogginess.

A sigh left his lips as he continued to shove for freedom from the larger man's body. He didn't expect to sleep with him after one night or that storms scared the younger. "Just move aside, Alfred."

The American grunted in annoyance, but did as he was told, shifting over slightly to look at him.

"Thank you." Breathing easier, Arthur sighed and happily moved away. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mhm." The American nodded... He'd slept better than he had in three long years.

He'd just have to sleep with Arthur from now on. He decided.

He didn't bother asking what Alfred wanted for breakfast or lunch, whatever time of day it happened to be as he headed for the kitchen. He boiled water, removed sausages and washed potatoes before peeling them with a small knife.

The American took a moment to shuffle after him, poking his head in the kitchen. "I made you sausage once." His voice was innocent, moving to sit on the couch.

"About time I returned the favor." Arthur added coldly. Soon after his safe return, the detective learned what Alfred fed him was his German co worker.

The American pouted at his tone, going to sit down. "Ya told me ya liked it."

"I didn't know where it came from!" He ate like a vegetarian for a few months before eating meat comfortably again. Adding salt to the mix, Arthur mashed the soften potatoes as he tossed a few links into a frying pan.

Alfred huffed at him, eyes going down to the table. "But it was a good cut of meat! usually you let the organs freeze first-"

"Please don't explain that to me." He held up a hand in protest and tended to his cooking. It was the last thing he needed to hear.  
>"But-" Alfred's mouth clamped shut at the others look, and he folded his arms over his chest, sinking down into his chair in silent brooding.<p>

'Just like a child would.' Arthur recounted in his mind before finishing breakfast. "Here." He placed a plate of mashed potatoes and sausages before the man. "Don't you give me any lip about how your homemade cooking tastes better then mine."

"It does." Alfred retorted, but accepted the food anyway, eating greedily. It really was good.

Slapping was called for but Arthur only used his hand to serve himself some food. As he ate, he refrained from glaring at the American. "I'm going to head down to my work to check up on a few cases but I'll come back to see how much of your job you've finished."

Alfred made a face at him. "But maybe I want to come with you."

"You have a job to do." He noticed how much of a young one Alfred acted like and he admitted to himself it was really cute. He never thought he would be able to call that murderer cute.

"This work you given me sounds dull at best." Alfred informed him, gesturing. "I need somethin' to do with my hands."

"You can type with your hands." Arthur ignored the shiver from the strength in the last word as he continued eating as calmly as possible.

"You know that ain't what I meant," Alfred looked at him seriously. "I can' do that shit for hours all day... It's boring." And god knew Alfred had to be kept entertained...

"Look." He stared back with just as serious eyes, folding his arms across his chest. "It's the only job you can have at the time being until you're stable enough to work with the public."

"I'm stable." Alfred was leaning over him now, eyes inches away from Arthur's. "do you think I'm not? Hm?"

In return, the detective did not deter and stood up, keeping little distance between their stares. "No." He replied simply, staying on his glare towards the younger. "You tried taking a wrench to the computer last night."

"I wanted to see what was inside." Alfred rolled his eyes, not backing off... He took a step closer. "What's wrong with that?"

Standing his ground, Arthur, only breathing somewhat heavier, did not dare to show any signs of fear or weakness to the other man. "It's an expensive piece of equipment." Replying with hard, almost venom like eyes. "I would hate it if you broke my computer."

"Then don' make me use it." Alfred's voice was cool and deadly even, his accent lowering an octave. "Just give me real work... I'll fix up the house or something. Build something. Come ooon."

He sighed really hard again, tightening his lips into a frown and clenching his hands into fists. "You need to accept the task at hand. I don't think you have any useful skills according to what the doctors said during your evaluation."

"I have plenty!" Alfred's anger flared, eyes burning into Arthur's. "It ain't my fault all the damn skills yer god damn doc was looking for were computer shit!" He gestured angrily. "I'm good with tools! And I know everythin' about meat and anatomy and- and I can build things too!"

This was getting nowhere as the food grew colder. His palm met his face as he let out a hard and long drawn out moan of irritation. "Alright. Fine, just to quit your whining, I'll give you something do to." Arthur pushed the other man aside as he went outside to his backyard. Bringing an arm full of wood, nails, glue with a small hammer and saw, the blonde laid the items on the coffee table. "I expect you to make a birdhouse then."

Alfred grinned suddenly nodding his head. "Okay!" He seemed decently happy about this compromise. Going to start.  
>"Finish your food first." With that being said, Arthur sat himself down to clean his plate and heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth before leaving Alfred alone.<p>

The American simply shrugged, ignoring the order and setting to work on the bird house, whistling while he worked... An old rhyme pap had taught him. "Don't ever laugh as a hearse goes by for you may be the next to die..."

Arthur didn't worry too much about the American, he left for only a two hours. He checked up on the other cases rising in London, murders, rapists, robbers, the whole rotten lot. The detective wanted to return to field work but watching over and preparing Alfred for the real world. Well, normal world.

The Americans eyes shifted to the floor as he heard the sound of little rat's feet scurrying across it. He paused when the rat did, blue eyes locked on it for a moment before his clauses fingers moved onto the table, grasping one of the screwdrivers in it.

The rat was impale with it.

Suspecting Alfred wanted to paint the bird house he was supposed to make, Arthur purchased a few paint bottles and brushes from the local shop and returned home without much of a hassle. He shrugged off his coat and hung on a hanger before setting the items on the kitchen table. "How much progress have you done?"

Alfred turned around, grinning at him toothily and gesturing to the mostly finished birdhouse on the table... It'd turned out fairly nice, actually.

Picking it up for a closer look, it wasn't a picture perfect birdhouse but at least one could recognized what it was. "You like building things?"

"Mhm!" Alfred hummed contently, nodding. "It's lots of fun Angel. Somethin' to do with m' hands."

Someone looked happy. "Lots of fun?" Arthur set it down and offered the paint brushes and bottles. "You won't attract any birds with the plain wooden colour, lad."

The American nodded, grabbing the paint from Arthur's hands. "Thank ya!" He went to work. He'd never bothered to pick up the impaled mouse from the floor.

Time to leave him to work and give the boss a call about a new job placement. Arthur wasn't one to simply yield to another but, the boy was right about being well with his hands. "By the way, don't be surprised if my brother comes over anytime tomorrow. The cheeky brat tends to do that."

Alfred tilted his head to the side, nodding as he started running the brush up and down the side of the bird house with the exaggerated movements one might see in a movie. "Okay, angel."

Catching the child like smile brought about his own before he laid down in his bedroom. Dialing for the mental institute, the Englishman waited for the other line to pick up. "Hello, good afternoon, I'm calling to speak with ? Thank you." He listened to the classical music for a few moments before another voice chimed in. "Hello, there, yes, I'd like to inform you that we may have to relocate Alfred's job placement. I understand he isn't ready to work outside of my watch but I don't believe the online survey is the best option."

Alfred kept painting... A little surprised Arthur hadn't noticed the dead rat... He set the brush down, going to pick it up off the floor. He eyeballed it a moment before going to drop it out he window, whipping the blood off on his pants and setting it down on the table again before going back to painting.

A groan formed in the back of his throat. "Well bother then." He knew changing the mind of the doctors who treated the disturbed teenager wouldn't be as easy as he hoped for but Arthur tried nevertheless for a revaluation. "I'll call later then to set up a date, thank you." Hanging up the phone, he laid back down, noticing that between working, traveling and moving, not to mention checking on Alfred over the years in holding, he hadn't given himself any real... pleasure.

Alfred was still painting the birdhouse... His head cocked to the side as he listened to the half conversation going on in the other room... His Angel was probably talking to one of those stupid doctor guys... But when the talking stopped and Arthur didn't come back out he got curious... Standing slowly and scurrying over to the door to listen.

Arthur mumbled something about ordering a new magazine since this one wasn't... exciting anymore. He sighed for the eighth time, as far as he was concerned and open it to see the same nude bodies. It would have to do for now, he thought and started thumbing through the pages until his member decided to stop and stare.

Alfred had his ear pressed to Arthur's door, a small frown on his lips. What was he slit in there...? All he could hear was rusting noises...

Gently running his moist hands over his lenght, Arthur muffled his own groans, knowing Alfred was still awake. The idea of being caught turned him on somewhat regardless of whom it was. Locking eyes with the printed picture's, the Englishman stroked faster, hoping to get to his climax sooner. 'I have to check up on him after this. Nothing good can come out of pure silence.'

Alfred heard more rustling... Then... A soft, muffled sound that could only have come from angel... What was he...?

_Oh._

Alfred knew_ that_ noise.

His hand reached for the doorknob, turning it slowly and peaking his head inside the room... Pulling up his old, pure mask of innocence... Despite what Arthur had told him before, Alfred knew he could feel detectives... He'd done it already. "Angel...? What're ya doin'...?"

Once hearing the creaky knob turn, Arthur calmly covered his lenght with the magazine then covered that with his blanket. "I'm day dreaming, is all." He had much practice of this from when his parents ever knocked or busted into his room. "Alfred? Did you finish painting already?"

"Naw, I will in a minute." Alfred played dumb, sauntering over and sitting himself next to Arthur, grinning at him. "I wanted to talk to ya angel..."

Leaning back against the headboard of his bed, Arthur relaxed back, placing his hands over his lap. "Hmm? What do you want to talk about Alfred?"

"I dunno." Alfred was in his personal space again, leaning up to look at the Brits face, "somethin'... Why doncha come out and paint the bird house with me?" His hand rested lightly on Arthur's thigh.

Eying that hand, Arthur faced Alfred with a small grin. "I thought you wanted some time alone to paint. Besies, it's your task, not much could be proved if I'm helping you." The Englishman really wanted to get back to what he was doing and opted to lock the door after Alfred made his way out.

Alfred pouted at him. "Aw but I get lonely without you angel..." his hand was moving... Innocently, it appeared, though his real intentions were anything but, "I just wan you to come out and sit with me is all..."

Pushing his hands down into his lap prevented his upcoming hard on to reveal itself to the American. "You do realize you will be alone when you're working? This is practice for you, Alfred."

Alfred pouted. "I'll be all alone while you're at work... I want company now."

Arthur gave into the child, he grew uncomfortable with that but those blue eyes seemed to beg for his attention. His hand ran through clean fibers on Alfred's head as he chuckled lightly. "Ok, go out there then. I'll keep you company."

Alfred's hand drifted higher... Fingers set on Arthur's inner thy, playing innocent. "Come on then." His eyes twinkled... Leaning in close to the Brit's face... Well within his personal boundaries. "Come on." He pulled back suddenly, standing up and folding his arms behind his back.

"What was that for?" He asked, pressed harder down on his lap, raising his brow at the American. "Never mind, just go out there, I need to use the bathroom."

"Can't you _wait_?" Alfred wined, pouting at him before giving a grin. "Come ooon!" Alfred gave him a pair of puppy dog eyes, batting his lashes at him innocently.  
>He blushed a little and faced away. "You can't seem to go on a few seconds without me?" Arthur scooted himself away, member twitching harder. "You want something more, don't you?"<p>

"I don't know what yer talkin' 'bout Angel." He took a step closer to him- hand resting on the older mans upper arm. "I just like your company... I love you Angel."

He didn't know what to do with the little distance between them. Arthur took in the new features of the once hideous maniac. "You... you don't know the meaning of the word love. You're still... young." But his gaze fixed itself onto the handsome man over him.

"'m not that young Angel." He move closer still... Until it seemed impossible for him to get closer without them touching. "'m eighteen... How older you? Thirty? That's not so bad..." That was his guess anyway... He knew Arthur had at least been in his late twenties when they first met.

"I'm twenty-nine." Mumbling, the breath he remembered as something mixed between decay and death only reminded him of mint. The lad had been taking care of himself and it seemed to pay off, not in a good way. "You say that as if you... see me as a-" Just thinking of the word lover cause his lenght to grow. Damnit. "You're not suppose to..." Well, there were no rules stating so but it was common sense.

"Oh but Angel..." Alfred's hand set on his other arm, pulling the Brit close to him... Their body's almost pressed together. "You're so pretty... My Angel... Like in the story's Mama used to read..." he licked his lips. "See? Twenty-nines even better..." he moved forward slightly... His neck swerving to the side. "Give me a kiss angel... Just one kiss."

Arthur choked and held onto Alfred's waist to stop him, cheeks dusted with pink across. "A k-kiss?" The lunatic couldn't have been serious about that request. Dating and kissing wasn't new to the Englishman but always with women, as that was the norm.

"Course angel." Alfred's understand of sex was limited... It was something you did with people you loved... Mama did it with Pap, and uncle Tex, and uncle Tex did it with uncle Craw... They'd told him things about his family in the jail... That they were screwed up... That he was just another one of those deformed incest babies they'd spawned... But that was okay. Because Alfred knew how he felt, he loved Angel... So that meant he kissed him. "Please?"

A kiss would prove a good enough of a distraction from the hard problem under the magazine and sheet. "Alright." Gently, one hand cupped Alfred's soften cheek as he tilted his head, closing his eyes and leaning in for their lips to touch, something he never saw himself doing with Alfred.

Alfred smiled against the Brit's lips... Wrapping his arms around the others shoulders and pulling him a little bit closer to himself... He didn't plan on letting him move away any time soon.

It was just a little kiss, nothing more. No feelings at all, he thought with his cheeks twitching once they kiss lingered on long than he was comfortable. Hurry up, please.

Alfred pulled back reluctantly after a moment, giving Arthur a lopsided smile. "I really do love ya angel," the American looked down, his fingers drawing absent circles on Arthur's hand. "Ya make me so happy..."

Looking away to not fall for anything, Arthur put on a brave face. "You're really quick to say that. You don't know me that well." He hoped his earlier erection went down from the somewhat pleasant kiss. Alfred had been taken care of himself, he noted.

"But I do Angel," He smiled at him, leaning a little closer. "Ya make me so happy... you're like sunshine Angel. you make me warm in here." He took Arthur's hand, placing his hand on his chest, right over his heart. "I really love ya..."

If that was the other man's attempt at charming Arthur, it was working well on him. "Have you ever... loved before? How can you know what it is?" Fingers smoothed over the cloth, feeling define muscle underneath and the murder's heartbeat.

"I just know Angel," Alfred murmured, smoothing the Brits hair gently. "I love you..." he'd never really been around anyone else... He loved his family sure, but not like this... No, no not like this...

Hips twitched once he felt the stroke in his hair, reminding him he has not satisfy his sexual needs. "Alfred, you understand a man is suppose to be with a woman." Suppose to weren't the right words, but it was his own way to prevent himself from throwing the younger to the floor and shagging him relentlessly, no matter how much the idea turned him on.

"That's a stupid rule," Alfred grumbled, kissing Arthur once again... Pressing his body right up against Arthur's. "I wanna be with you..." His uncles used to do things like that... Why couldn't he do them with Arthur? This was stupid...

Arthur shuddered into the kiss, letting out a low moan with eyes closed. He felt uneasy once it was over much soon than he expected. "It's not a rule so much as a preference." The Englishman shrugged, trailing his other hand down Alfred's back, exploring how toned muscles easily seeped through his clothes.

"But I prefer ya." Alfred grumbled, kissing Arthur's lips slowly... Lovingly. "Don't you like me Angel?" He rested his chin on the others chest, looking up at him with big blue eyes that might have been innocent, once.

Fingers pulled on cloth for a closer embrace, lust clouding his eyes by the kiss. A question he wanted to avoid like a bullet, lodged itself in his chest. "I can't..." He pursed his lips and licked them dryly. "I can't see myself with anyone." He was thinking the oh so opposite.

"Maybe ya can use yer imagination." Alfred offered, his lips connecting with Arthur's once again... A little more forceful this time... Teeth clashing slightly and Alfred's tongue pressing against Arthur's lips for entrance.

Arthur's imagination wondered to places beyond his belief. Well, he didn't think to ever want to make love to someone like Alfred. The idea was getting more arousing but they second their tongue met after Arthur allowed it. "Mhn..."

The American hummed against the older mans lips, placing his hand gently on Arthur arm and pulling back slightly, trailing small kisses down the others throat. "Any way ya like it angel... We c'n do it anyway ya like it... I wanna be with ya..."

His body sure as hell liked it as his member grew harder by each kiss on his exposed neck. Without out his mind giving any signals, Arthur's fingers pulled off Alfred's clothing and pushed away the blanket and magazine. Not listening to anything but his instinct to be inside a warm place, he tugged at the murder's pants to remove them. "Then... get naked."

Arthur grinned against the Brits neck... Nodding his head enthusiastically and quickly undoing his pants. Shimmying them off along with his underwear and going to work the buttons of his shirt, his lips connecting with Arthur's once again.

Lube was in Arthur's hands before he realized it, kissing hard and trailing his fingers against Alfred's virgin ring of muscle. He grew excited and bit the soft lip and moaned with his member hardening. Opening and pouring an adequate amount in his hand, Arthur slipped in one finger.

Alfred's back arched, a strangled moan escaping his lips, half pain, half pleasure. "Angel!" He breathed, long, muscled arms pulling Arthur closer and his lips attacking the others... He ground his hips down, pushing himself as far as he could onto the finger- he'd never felt anything like this before... But he liked it.

"Alfred-Mm!" His voice stopped from their mouths against each other, giving the finger a nudge before adding his second and slowly but eagerly spreading them. He waited a few minuets for the lad then his third joined and he thrusted them. The man above him felt hot on the inside. decreasing Arthur's patience.

"A-ah-" Alfred moaned, trying to push down on the fingers inside of him, wanting them deeper, wanting them to touch that spot deep inside of him that would have him loose all composure. "Angel a- I need ya bad angel please-"

Arthur knew Alfred needed more preparation. It was the only last bit of sanity he had left. Shoving his fingers as fast as he could managed, thinking of how amazing the walls would feel closing in around him. He grunted while throwing the younger on his back, removing his digits and thrusting himself into the pool of heat.

"Aaahh!" Alfred housed out at the sudden penetration, his back arching off the bed and arms snapping around Arthur's neck, as if trying to pull him closer. "Y-yeah," he breathed out, his legs spreading wider as if to give him more room. blue eyes blown wide with ecstasy.

Without a word of warning, Arthur held down those hips with fingers around the curving bones, thrusting his harden cock into the heat. He nibbled Alfred's neck, giving off a moan near his ear. Words were unknown to him once lost inside the younger man's tight hole.

Alfred moaned, tilting his head back. Back arching off the bed. He ground his hips back against the older man. His voice rising slightly in pitch when Arthur hit something deep inside of him that made his cock twitch almost painfully between their stomachs.

He bit harder on the soft and warm flesh, planning on marking the boy for himself only. Not that Alfred would want anyone else but him. Their skin sliding against each other sent quakes of primal hunger through the English man as a growling grunt left him. He wanted more sexual sounds and movements from the other therefore, he violently grabbed the erected member and stroked it.

"Aaah-Angel!" Alfred moaned out the word as his cock was grabbed, eyes rolling up slightly into his head as pleasure completely overtook him. He clenched around Arthur's cock inside of him, trying to push Arthur to orgasm as well. Me moaned, out of control, blue eyes wild and needy. He was close, so close it was driving him crazy.

"L-louder." He squeezed and held tightly around the head, thumbing the tip teasingly. Arthur liked the feeling of being in control of another person. He couldn't allow himself to fall for Alfred. Oh no, anything but that. Pushing away those thoughts and ramming himself in any direction, the detective closed his mouth on a spot on Alfred's neck, sucking and leaving a mark.

Alfred shook with pleasure, his arms wrapping around Arthur's neck, pulling him as close as he could. "Angel- angel I love you!" He moaned out, tugging the Brit down to kiss him. Murdered and detective, the first giving himself to the second.

What Arthur didn't understand was that, that was the most dangerous thing he could ever do.

Arthur did not want to repeat those words, not that he could with his mouth occupied against Alfred's. Hot breathes mixed together in their pants, body temperatures rose higher with every push and shove of Arthur's cock. Stopping himself from going over the edge, no heed after crossing the professional line, the older man ached for release but wanted to hear the music of Alfred's begging.

Alfred arched his back, cock throbbing in painful need of release. "Angel! I-I'm gonna-" he was close, so close he didn't know how much longer he could hold it off. "Please!"

Feeling warm precum sliding down his fingers, Arthur held as tightly as he could and pulled out, groaning at the sudden lost of heat. He clenched his teeth to withhold his own instinct to spread his seed. "If... you really need me, tell me." His throat rumbled as he gasped, speaking with a rougher accent. "Tell me how much you really want me, then beg me, Alfred."

Alfred chocked at the lose, spreading his legs wider, as if trying to welcome him back in. Blue eyes blown wide with pleasure and desperation. "Please angel!" Alfred begged, moaning softly. "Please! I love ya so much I- I need ya inside of me! I need yer huge cock inside of me fucking me raw. I need ya!" His own accent had thickened with lust, the deep, Texas drawl pulling on his words, and making such things odd to hear.

Alfred was... Excited by this side of Arthur... Excited to see that under that superior mask, the detective hide a slightly sadistic side.

Plunging himself back into the cavern of burning, collapsing walls, Arthur took control of his lips, pulling on Alfred's blonde locks and stroking the hardened member faster. Pulling and thrusting he knew what he was doing went against everything he stood for, it was wrong but amidst the fiery passion and sweet pleads the only thing on his mind was the number of rounds and positions he wanted to do. "Now... cum, Alfred." The Englishman commanded, nipping away at moist lips and rubbing his thumb on the slit opening, now leaking more so.

Alfred moaned, his back arching as Arthur thrust back into him, and he found himself cumming against the others stomach, moaning loudly and arching his back. "O-oh Angel ah~" he wrapped his arms around the others neck, biting down on his shoulder as he came, unable to help himself.

Moaning between pain from the bite and pleasure from releasing himself deeply into the younger, Arthur heard the wet sounds as he pushed slowly into Alfred, riding out his orgasm and catching his breath. It was the best he had ever, so much pent up tension finally expelled. He never thought he would see the day to make love with another- Well, he couldn't really call this making love.

Alfred moved his mouth from Arthur's shoulder, proud to see he'd left a mark... He hummed, almost to himself, his body limp and spent against the mattress of Arthur's bed. "I love ya so much Angel." He was so glad... So glad that- "m' glad ya where my first time."

"I want more though." Once he tasted the flavors for flesh on flesh, he grew hungry. "Can you handle me? Do you think you can survive all of my lust?" He asked in Alfred ear, licking against the shell, groaning hard. He didn't think he would become this aroused after his... first time too? Was it his first time having sex as well? It had been a long life of loneliness, he couldn't remember ever having a partner before.

Alfred's eyes racked up Arthur's frame, smirking at the Brit hovering over him. "I'll take whatever ya got angel." His accent was a purr, hands trailing over Arthur's shoulders. "Yer horny angel." He teased, laughing.

"Belt it." Arthur lifted one of Alfred's legs and placed it on his shoulder, holding it against his chest while thrusting back into the warmth he never wanted to leave. He was filled with pleasure from the friction he only felt when masturbating. This was so much better than touching himself.


End file.
